


Just One Look At You (And My Will Crumbles To Dust)

by Reddwarfer



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Human, First Dates, Fluff and Angst, Frottage, Happy Ending, M/M, Past Kate Argent/Derek Hale, Single Parent Derek, Single Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-10 00:33:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7823332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reddwarfer/pseuds/Reddwarfer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek's happy being single and raising his daughter. He just wishes his well-meaning family and friends understood this. He's set on not dating anyone at all, until he meets Stiles by chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just One Look At You (And My Will Crumbles To Dust)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nesselberry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nesselberry/gifts).



> For Nesselberry in the Sterek Exchange: I hope you enjoy my take on your prompt! 
> 
> Endless thanks to Ves for the beta. I couldn't have done this without you.
> 
> I'm pretty sure Stiles' job in this doesn't work this way in real life, but *shrugs*

When Derek finally gets a chance to sit down and read his emails, it's almost eleven. Lucy hadn't wanted to wake up, hadn't wanted to get dressed, hadn't wanted to eat breakfast, hadn't wanted to get in the car, and hadn't wanted Derek to leave her at preschool. Most times, Lucy tended towards biddable, or at the very least, bribe-able, but today, she'd settled on stubborn and refused to budge.

After dropping off Lucy, Derek ran around town completing errands he'd put off last Friday in favor of a nap and long lunch. It had been worth it, though, because weekends tended to be the least restful part of his week.

Now, Derek has a coffee, a cheese danish, and thirty minutes to check his email and poke around online. He regrets it as soon as he logs in to see his inbox overflowing to the point that he wonders if he accidentally got redirected to someone else's email account, someone who signed up for every newsletter ever made and promptly forgot the account existed. There are over four hundred new emails. Four. Hundred. When he'd gone to bed last night, he had four, and two of those were coupons. 

Derek takes a look at the addresses and quickly finds a common theme. Sighing, Derek snags his cellphone. 

″Hello, Derek,″ Laura greets with a suspiciously cheery voice. ″How are you enjoying this fine morning?″

″It was you,″ Derek says, grim. ″You're the reason I have 450 emails in my inbox.″

Laura laughs. ″450? Aren't you hot stuff! Hey, Cora,″ she yells, mouth away from the phone. ″Der-bear's got 450 emails in his inbox.″ Derek can hear both his sisters cackling, and it just irritates him even more.

″What did you do?″ Derek demands, wanting to know what he did to deserve being saddled with two horrifyingly awful sisters. ″I don't want to have to change my email address. I've had it for years.″

″Chill out, Der,″ Laura says, rolling her eyes. Derek can't see it, but he knows she's doing it anyhow. ″We just signed you up for a dating website or two. You can disable the email notifications in the settings.″

″Dating websites? Which ones? There's more than one in here, I can tell.″ His account refreshes, dumping another twenty new emails into his inbox. Derek sighs and suppresses the urge to throw his laptop out the window. Why couldn't he just have been an only child? 

Laura pauses a minute before saying, a bit sheepishly, ″All of them?″

″Damn it, Laura,″ Derek grits out, rubbing the bridge of his nose. ″If I wanted to date, I'd do this myself.″

″You can't stay closed off forever, Der,″ Laura says, sincere, which makes his irritation lessen the slightest amount. ″It's been over three years.″

″I've been a bit busy with raising Lucy those three years, if you recall. Doesn't leave a lot of time for dating.″ Derek sends up a silent thank you for Gmail's filtering capability and slowly starts deleting the unwanted emails in chunks. 

″Being a single dad doesn't mean you don't get a private life,″ Laura argues, huffing a bit. He can hear Cora in the background, probably telling Laura what to say to him. She always did enjoy backseat lecturing. 

″Actually, being a single parent means exactly that,″ Derek counters. Laura doesn't have children, doesn't know how much of yourself you end up sacrificing to your kids, often without hesitation or regret. Trading a night at a club for a night of strategically getting your kid to sleep before they get too tired to cooperate happens without much of a thought to the alternatives. It's just the way it is.

″Derek—″ Laura starts, but he doesn't want to argue about it anymore and cuts her off.

″Just tell me what the user name and password is for these sites so I can deactivate,″ Derek says in a tone that doesn't brook any disagreement. Not that it stops Laura. Or Cora. Or Lucy, for that matter. 

Laura takes a breath as if to start arguing again, but abruptly stops. ″Okay, Der. It's AlphaWolf20. Password: SomeLikeItHot24. First letter of each word capitalized.″

″Laura,″ Derek says in the same tone he used to use when she embarrassed him in high school, and she laughs in obvious delight.

″This conversation isn't over,″ Laura threatens cheerfully. ″I'll talk to you later, Der. Give Lucy a kiss from me and Cora.″

Before Derek can say another word, Laura hangs up, and Derek's left alone with his overflowing inbox, the worst username and password he's ever heard, and the familiar exasperation that only comes with having siblings. 

By the time Derek finishes cleansing his inbox, he's got about five minutes before he needs to leave to pick up Lucy from preschool. Derek spares a glance to the unfinished laundry, the small pile of mail that needs sorting, and the growing collection of toys that have migrated out of Lucy's bedroom and into the living room, and thinks maybe he'll try to get to it after Lucy goes to bed.

~*~

″Daddy!″ Lucy shrieks as she runs toward him, full tilt. She collides into his legs and looks up at him with a grin. Her light brown hair is escaping her pigtails, like it always does, and there's a smudge of something decorating her round face. Her green eyes are bright with excitement as she waves a picture she drew in one hand. He scoops her up in his arms and gives her a quick kiss on the cheek.

″Hey, baby girl, how was your day?″ Derek asks, walking her over to her personalized cubbyhole with her jacket and backpack. He grabs her things without taking his eyes off her face in a practiced move that lets him move without jostling her awkwardly. 

Derek gives a quick wave to her teacher who is busy helping a little boy—Dustin—clean his hands. Lucy continues giving her rundown of the day all the way out to the car, barely pausing to take a breath. Once he gets her into her carseat, he takes the momentary interruption to get a word in edgewise. ″So, what do you think we should have for dinner?″

″Chicken nuggets!″ she says, clapping her hands together. Derek tamps down the urge to roll his eyes. Chicken nuggets. Again. Of course. 

″Sure thing, Luce,″ Derek says, because as much as he's tired of chicken nuggets, it's preferable to a dinner-time tantrum. He'll just cook some green beans and figure it'll split the difference.

Before Derek became a father, his visions of parenthood were all sunny smiles, trips to the park, reading books before bedtime, and a vague feeling of pride. Now, he knows the truth: it's havoc. Utter and complete havoc. Feeling well-rested is not just a memory, but something you're no longer sure even existed in the first place. A clean room into a disaster area in less time than it takes to go to the bathroom. Mealtime somehow requires more negotiation than rich people need to divorce. Laundry is a Sisyphean task. The reasons a kid ends up in tears often beggar logic, reason, and understanding. (Seriously, one time Lucy wouldn't stop crying for twenty minutes because Derek wore the 'wrong' leather jacket.) Still, Derek loves being a dad, and all those frustrations seem worth it for the good parts. He wouldn't give up having Lucy in his life for anything.

~*~

Dinner goes smoothly. Lucy, much to Derek's relief, even eats her vegetables without a fuss. She watches _Elmo in Grouchland_ , again, for her one-hour of TV a day, which allows Derek to toss in a load of laundry and clean the kitchen in relative peace. Bathtime, however, is the battle for the evening.

″Come on, Lucy, time to get clean,″ Derek cajoles. He's learned from experience that it's better to have her go into the bathroom under her own steam, unless he wants a full-fledged tantrum. ″You can even have toys.″ They don't always do toys because toys mean the bath lasts twenty minutes longer than normal.

″The boats _and_ the ducks?″ Lucy asks, 'won't' draining out of her posture. Derek nods, and she's on her feet, thudding toward the bathroom at top speed. Derek sighs in relief. Another crisis averted.

After a forty minute bath— _Christ_ —and two bedtime stories, Derek finally gets a chance to relax. He walks out to the living room, ignoring the laundry left in the dryer, the toys on the floor, the work on his computer, and just collapses on the couch in exhaustion.

Derek doesn't even know if he can muster the energy to turn on the television. He eyes it blearily but ultimately decides against it. He closes his eyes, just to rest them, and wishes it wasn't just him doing this alone.

It's not that he misses Kate per se, but he sometimes wishes he could have had all this with someone who wanted it. Wishes he had someone who would've shared his excitement in the pregnancy. Wishes he had someone who would have wanted to pick out baby names and decorated a nursery. Wishes he had someone wanted to have a family.

Instead he had Kate, who half-heartedly faked happiness throughout a pregnancy she didn't want, stuck around the maternity ward long enough to sign the birth certificate, then snuck out when Derek had gone down to the hospital cafeteria. By the time he sorted everything out with the hospital and CPS, then brought Lucy home, the house had been thoroughly emptied of everything of Kate's except her key to the house, which was left on the kitchen counter. Chris, her brother, had come over once after that. ″Don't look for her,″ he'd said, peering down at the bundle in his arms. ″My dad doesn't know about Lucy, and that's better for everyone.″

That was the last he'd seen or heard from any of them aside from a notarized letter from Kate's lawyer, giving up any and all parental rights. 

He didn't look for her, and not just because Chris had warned him off. Forcing Kate to be a mom against her will seemed like an exercise in pain for everyone. Derek still doesn't know why Kate didn't just have an abortion, since she clearly didn't want to have a child, but since Derek got Lucy out of it, he'd rather focus on being grateful than worrying about it.

Derek glances at the clock. Almost ten. He hefts himself to his feet, shuffles down the hall to his bedroom, and gives a passing thought to being a twenty-six year old man who goes to bed before the eleven o'clock news. Shrugging it off, he strips down, crawls under the covers, and falls asleep almost as soon as he closes his eyes.

~*~

Derek manages to coral Lucy with minimal fuss the next morning, which is a minor miracle in his opinion. He gets the laundry beast vaguely under control, does a passable job at cleaning up the place, and sits down at his computer at 10:15, which feels like victory. Until, that is, he tries to do anything on it. It's slow, fussy, and crashes twice. Derek sighs, drains his cup of coffee, and pours another one. He really needs his computer to work because he's got deadlines to meet and it's not like he gets much chance to work on it after Lucy gets home.

He messes around with it for another half hour before giving up on it as a bad job. He can't even get online to look up a place to take the damned thing, and he's pretty sure the last time he got a physical phone book, he put it directly into the recycling bin. 

When his sister's ring tone chimes, Derek very nearly tosses it across the room. ″This is your fault,″ Derek says by way of greeting. "Everything I'm suffering right now is all your fault."

″What crawled up your—?″ Laura starts to ask before Derek cuts her off, ″My computer won't work and it's your fault. I must've picked up a virus trying to unsubscribe from all those terrible sites you signed me up for.″

″Oops?″ she says, not sounding very sorry at all. ″Der...″

″Look, I know you mean well. You and Cora. But I'm just not interested in a relationship right now. Maybe not for a while.″

Laura sighs as if she has ninety-nine problems and all of them are Derek's stubborn insistence to remain single.″Did you at least see if anyone was worth a look before you undid all my hard work?″

″No.″ Derek doesn't wait for a reply, just hangs up and texts Boyd for the name of the computer place he uses.

~*~

Derek tucks his laptop under his arm and lets himself into small shop with the words ″Computer Problems Byte″ stenciled in bright, red font on the glass door.

″Oh, hello, please come in and feel free to never leave.″ Derek looks up to see a very attractive pale young man sitting on a stool near a table. His hair is tousled in a way that's less artful and more fell out of bed and couldn't be bothered. It looks good on him. He has deep brown eyes, full lips, and a mischievous smile on his gorgeous face. Derek feels want pool in his belly for the first time in _years_. 

″As enticing as that offer is, I'm afraid all I can spare is about twenty minutes,″ Derek says, not intending to flirt but doing it anyhow. 

The young man affects an exaggerated pout and gives him a slow once over. Again. ″That's a shame. The name's Stiles, by the way,″ he says, offering his hand. 

″Derek,″ he replies and shifts the laptop to his other arm so he can take Stiles' hand in his. It's warm and Derek's loath to let it go, but he does. 

″So,″ Stiles says, still looking avidly at Derek's face. Stiles licks his lips, then seems to come back to himself. ″Oh, so, um, is there a problem I can help you with? If not, can I create a problem for you I can then solve?″

Chuckling, Derek sets his laptop on the table near Stiles. ″I'm pretty sure I've got a virus or two. My sister signed me up for a bunch of dating sites. I'm not sure all of them were reputable. It was after I deactivated all those accounts I noticed it start acting up.″

″Well, better the computer than you,″ Stiles replies, then flushes. ″Um. Not that there's anything wrong if you do. Have one. Yourself. Not that I think you do. Just. People do. And it's okay. I don't know why I can't stop talking. Okay, shutting up now. Forget I said anything.″

Derek just blinks at him, not sure what to say. ″I uh. The only virus is on my computer?″ 

Stiles looks like he wishes the floor would swallow him up, and Derek thinks it's adorable despite himself. ″Well, look what I have here. It's a form. For you to fill out. For the virus. On the computer. Include a phone number you can be reached at and if you have a password on your log-on screen, you need to write that down, too″

Laughing, Derek shakes his head. ″All right. When do you think it'll be ready? I'm on a bit of a deadline.″

With a sly grin, Stiles winks at him. ″I think I can make sure it gets done next. I have an in with the man in charge.″

″Thanks, Stiles,″ Derek says, and offers his hand again just for the pure pleasure of a few more seconds of contact with Stiles' skin. It's just as warm as before, grip just as firm, and Derek wants. ″See you later.″

″Yeah,″ Stiles nods, still holding his hand. Derek spends a wild moment trying to figure out a way to prolong the encounter, but can't figure out anything that isn't completely inappropriate. ″Later.″

With regret, Derek walks back out of the store, but not without casting one last glance backwards at Stiles, who is still looking at him.

~*~

Later that night, in the dark of his bedroom, Derek closes his eyes, imagines Stiles' lush lips against his skin, those long fingers touching his skin, their bodies pressing together. Derek slides his hand down into his sleep pants for the first time in months.

Wrapping a hand around his cock shouldn't feel so new, but it does. The first touch makes him crave it more, crave Stiles, really. It doesn't take long, not with the vivid image of Stiles greeting him behind his eyelids. Derek lies there, panting, come cooling on his skin and wonders if he should say something to Stiles. Ask for his number, ask him to coffee, ask him to come home with him. Where he lives. With Lucy. 

Reality crashes back down on him, and all the reasons why he hasn't done this reassert themselves. It's a good thought, though. Something he can tuck away for when he feels lonely. Derek sighs, reaching over to his bedside table for a tissue to clean up. It's just a fantasy, really, but it was nice while it lasted. At least he'll get to see Stiles one more time before he bids this dream goodbye.

~*~

The next morning, Derek wakes up early, which isn't unusual. However, he's also got energy which tends to only happen when his baby sister dumps half her energy drink in his coffee when he isn't looking. Not one to take this sort of boon for granted, Derek focuses on cleaning the house until it's time to wake Lucy. He gets the laundry folded and put away. The kitchen gets cleaned and he even runs a vacuum over the living room carpet.

″What happened to the stuff, Daddy?″ Lucy asks when she wakes up and looks around the house. Derek spares a moment to be embarrassed that his daughter is confused by it being clean and tidy. 

Derek stifles a laugh. ″I woke up early, so I cleaned up a little.″

″Wow.″ She looks at the living room like she didn't realize there was a rug underneath her toys. ″I'm hungry,″ she says, and with that, loses interest in the clean house entirely.

Twenty minutes into Lucy's glacial pace of eating a bowl a cheerios, Derek gets a text. It's not a familiar number, and he's halfway to deleting it when he notices the message is one letting him know his laptop's ready to get picked up. Derek grins despite his earlier resolve to do anything about his attraction to Stiles, not able to tamp down the excitement he feels at seeing his face again.

″Why you smiling, Daddy?″ Lucy asks, bringing him out of his daze. His smile dims, but not entirely. 

″My computer's fixed. The store's letting me know I can pick it up today.″

″Yay!″ Lucy smiles at him and claps her hands, ignoring her half full bowl of cereal. ″Daddy, I'm full.″

Derek sighs. It's not worth the fight to try to get her to eat more. ″Of course you are, Luce.″

~*~

Derek changes before he heads to the shop and tells himself it's necessary.

He steps into the store and is greeted by someone who isn't Stiles. He's an attractive man: tall, brown skin, and a lovely smile that shows off dimples. 

″Hello, welcome to Computer Problems Byte, may I help you?″ the man—Danny, by his nametag—asks.

″Hi, Danny,″ Derek says, eyes flicking down to the nametag again. ″Is, uh, Stiles working?″

″Stiles?″ Danny asks, like he's not quite sure what to make of the question. ″No. He doesn't work here.″

″Okay,″ Derek says, trying to shrug off the disappointment. ″Um. I got a text about my laptop.″

″Oh!″ Danny says, understanding lighting up his eyes, which baffles Derek a little. His lips quirk into amusement as he gives Derek a look. ″Laptop. Right.″ Danny gets up over to a shelf with multiple computers on it, each with a piece of paper printed on them. He plucks the laptop off the middle shelf and brings it over. ″The rush job. You have a deadline, right?″

″Yeah.″ Derek nods. When Stiles said he'd had an in with the boss, Derek had thought he'd been talking about himself. He hopes this doesn't mean that Danny's Stiles' boyfriend. The thought causes his stomach to churn uneasily. Danny's a good looking guy, and it'd explain why Stiles was hanging out the other day. It didn't explain the flirting, though maybe it was just Derek's overactive imagination.

″It's gonna cost fifty,″ Danny says, and Derek raises an eyebrow at that. Most places won't even touch anything for less than seventy. ″Family and friends discount,″ Danny explains, which makes no sense at all.

Derek nods slowly. ″Okay. Thanks.″ He pays, still not quite sure what to make of the whole situation, and says thanks again. Maybe that's what Stiles meant by having an ″in.″ He debates about asking for a way to contact Stiles, but decides that's a bit creepy. 

He's at the door when Danny calls out to him. ″I'll let Stiles know you came by.″

″Uh. Thanks,″ Derek replies. He stops himself from telling Danny to give Stiles his number. If they're dating, it'd just be awkward, and it's a bad idea besides. He needs to just focus on raising his daughter and forget about the way Stiles looks when he smiles.

~*~

Lucy responds to Derek's evident disappointment by being a complete holy terror. She doesn't want to leave preschool. She doesn't want to get out of the car when they get home because she wants to go to the park. She doesn't want to eat dinner because her mashed potatoes accidentally touched her steak. She refuses to take a bath. She lies down in the middle of the living room floor, kicking and screaming until she's blotchy-faced and hoarse. Derek feels like getting down on the rug with her and crying himself. So, he does. He lies next to her, stares at the ceiling, and lets the tears come.

″Why you cryin', Daddy?″ Lucy asks, a tinge of worry in her tone. She's pulled herself into a sitting position, poking his wet cheek with her grubby fingers. ″Didja get hurt?″

Derek shakes his head, trying to get himself back under control. If he lets it go on, she'll start crying again just because he's crying. ″No, baby girl, I'm fine. Just tired.″

″You should go to bed,″ Lucy replies with all the authority of a three and a half year old who knows what she's talking about.

Smiling a little, Derek agrees. ″Yeah, I should. But I can only go to bed if you go to bed.″

Lucy thinks about this, plucking at her toes. ″Okay, Daddy, I'll go to bed. But you hafta go to bed right after.″

″I will,″ Derek says, means it, too, because he's exhausted. Exhausted to his very bones.

″Promise?″ Lucy says, eyes unsure.

Derek picks her up and hugs her. He loves her so much. ″I promise.″

~*~

Derek spends the next two weeks in a familiar near-deadline pattern, which consists of working on his laptop whenever he's got a spare moment not dedicated to Lucy. He tries to not think about Stiles and mostly succeeds. He only drives by the computer place once, and doesn’t bother checking to see if he might be inside. He ignores his sisters, ignores Erica, ignores his mother, and only responds to Boyd via text. He feels like if they see him, hear him, they'll know, and that's the last thing he wants.

It's a Wednesday when he finally sends off the email to his boss. He takes his coffee to the living room and sits in his arm chair, allowing himself a few moments to relax. It's quiet, a rarity in his life. He leaves the television off, not sure if the TV has any other stations other than Noggin and Disney. 

Derek eyes the couch, wondering if he should steal himself a quick nap, when his stomach rumbles. Sighing, Derek gets to his feet and walks to the kitchen. He opens the fridge and sees...not much. He's got a bag of salad, some celery, some eggs, a half a quart of almond milk, and a couple of kiwis. His freezer is near bare. He's got Italian Ice, a couple of bags of frozen vegetables, a half loaf of sliced bread, and a roaster chicken he'd planned on making that weekend. 

He glances at the clock and sees he's got at least two hours before he needs to pick up Lucy, which means he can either take that nap or go grocery shopping in relative peace. He shuts the door to the freezer and heads to the closet to snag his reusable bags.

~*~

Derek's in front of the Hot Pocket area of the freezer section, debating whether he should grab another two boxes while they're on sale, when he hears a voice he never thought to hear again.

″Derek?″ He turns and sees Stiles standing there with his cart, huge smile across his face.

Swallowing thickly, Derek feels a smile curl up on his lips without permission. ″Stiles,″ he says, sounding unnecessarily breathy to his own ears. ″Thanks.″

Stiles' face crinkles in confusion. ″Uh. You're welcome? What did I do so I can do it again?″

Derek chuckles. ″For getting Danny to fix my laptop so quickly. And the discount.″ 

″Oh,″ Stiles says, waving a hand at him. ″That was nothing. Couldn't have you missing your deadline.″ 

Derek opens his mouth to wish Stiles a good day, but what comes out instead is, ″Would you like to get a cup of coffee with me sometime?″

Stiles looks surprised, but pleasantly so. He nods. ″Yes!″ he says, loudly, then, with a sheepish smile, he repeats, ″yes. I'd love to. Um.″ Stiles blushes as he fumbles getting his phone out of his pocket. ″Your number?″ he asks, looking at Derek with a hopeful expression.

Derek takes out his phone and passes it over to Stiles. ″Just put in yours and text yourself. Half the time I get it wrong.″

With a puckish smile, Stiles nods and begins fiddling with the phones. ″Sure. Sure.″ 

″So, I was surprised when Danny said you didn't work at the store,″ Derek says, trying to make conversation that has nothing to do with wanting to pin Stiles to a flat surface and lick him all over.

Stiles looks up from the phones, says, ″I was babysitting the store for him while he went to an appointment. We've been friends since high school, so he trusts me to not destroy the place while he's gone. Plus, I owed him. That,″ Stiles adds with a wink, ″is a story for another time. Preferably after a drink or two.″

″Maybe I should buy you a drink or two, just to get that story.″ Derek shifts his cart and moves closer to where Stiles is standing. Up close, he can get a hint of Stiles' scent. It makes Derek want to bury his nose in the hollow of Stiles' throat and inhale. ″It sounds like an interesting one.″

″Mmm...″ Stiles shifts, making them close enough to touch if they reached out a little. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he takes in Derek's face. His eyes are wide, cheeks flush, and Derek wonders what Stiles' mouth will taste like. Stiles shakes minutely, as if jerking himself out of a daydream. He hands Derek back his phone, letting his fingers curl around Derek's as he does. ″Let's get that coffee, first. Then, maybe we'll talk drinks. Whaddya say, big guy?″

Derek swallows thickly, and nods. ″Yeah, that. That sounds good. Really good.″

″I'll see you around, hot stuff,″ Stiles replies, finally moving back and to his cart. ″Text me.″

″I will,″ Derek promises, and turns back to the Hot Pockets, half-expecting the display to have melted in their presence. He looks down at his phone and sees Stiles' entry. He looks at it and smiles when he sees Stiles had apparently sent a selfie for his entry. One of him winking and blowing a kiss. It's more dorky than cute, but Derek likes it anyhow. ″I will,″ he repeats, to himself.

~*~

Derek spends the rest of the day in a pleasant daze. Lucy responds to his good mood with one of her own. She's easy for him, eats all her dinner, takes a bath without a fuss, and falls asleep after only two stories. It's the best day Derek can remember having in months.

He falls into his bed with a grin on his face, works himself over with the memory of the faint hint of Stiles' scent. His whole body feels like it's waking up after a long sleep. It's terrifying as much as it's exhilarating. Derek just needs to not talk himself out of it. When he dreams, it's of him, Stiles, and Lucy watching movies on the couch; it's of them being a family.

~*~

″Stop ignoring my calls, Der,″ Laura greets when he runs into her as he's dropping Lucy off at his mom's house. She's currently conked out, which happens anytime a drive lasts longer than thirty minutes.

Derek rolls his eyes. ″I'm not ignoring them.″ 

″You are! I've called ten times in the last two weeks and you didn't answer any of those and you never called back.″ Laura crosses her arms across her chest. 

″Well, maybe if all our conversations didn't end up with you trying to play matchmaker, I'd answer now and then,″ Derek points out as he lays Lucy down on the couch and tucks a blanket around her.

″I'm sorry,″ Laura says, and this time she sounds like she means it. She bites the tip of her thumb, eyebrows furrowing. ″I just don't want your whole life to waste away because of what _she_ did.″

″My life's not going to waste,″ Derek argues. ″It's fine. I'm fine. Laura, please, just drop it. I’m happy with my life as it is. I don't want to date.″

″Okay!″ Laura says, holding her hands up in surrender. ″It's the last you'll hear from me on the topic.″

″Thanks,″ Derek says, sincere, and he hugs her, burying his face in her shoulder. ″I'll stop ignoring your calls.″

Laura laughs. ″Thanks, Der.″

″Auntie Laura!″ Lucy shouts, causing them both to jump. Derek turns around to see Lucy climbing off the couch, running full tilt to her aunt. Derek wisely steps out of the way. ″I didn't know you were gonna be at grandma's.″

″It's a surprise,″ Laura says, grabbing Lucy and twirling her into a hug. ″I missed you, Lucy Goosey.″

″Is that my granddaughter I hear?″ Talia says, coming into the room.

Lucy squeals in delight, struggling to get down, which Laura wisely complies with. ″Grandma!″

″Come here, baby girl, and give me a hug,″ Talia says crouching down to catch Lucy, who runs straight at her. 

″So,″ Laura says now that Lucy and Talia are both occupying each other's attention. ″Why _are_ you here?″

Derek tries his best not to flush at the thought of meeting up with Stiles. He shrugs. ″Mom wanted some time with Lucy, and I've got a new assignment with a quick turn around.″ It's half true, at least, Derek reasons. 

″All right,″ Laura says, patting him on the shoulder. ″I'll let you get to it. I'll call you tomorrow, if I'm not here when you get back. Answer it this time.″

″Sure thing,″ Derek agrees, and leaves before Laura can sense he's lying.

~*~

It's not until Derek's showered, dressed, and sitting in his car about to leave to meet Stiles that his second thoughts get the better of him.

″What am I doing?″ Derek mutters, putting his head on the steering wheel. He can't do this. He can't date. He's got Lucy to think about. He can't have people in and out of her life. It's what he avoided dealing with when he decided against trying to involve Lucy's mother. And he can't just show up to this date and say, 'By the way, if being the parent of a toddler isn't in your long-term relationship goals, this probably isn't a good idea.'

Derek thunks his head against the steering wheel and is debating just canceling the whole thing when his phone vibrates. He opens it to see a text from Stiles: _Can't wait to see you. Twenty more minutes feels like it's too long._

He can't help the smile on his lips when he texts back: _It does. See you soon._

Tucking his phone back in his pocket, Derek takes a minute to compose himself. Then, he turns on his car and drives. Twenty minutes really does feel like it's too long.

~*~

″Hey,″ Stiles says when Derek joins him at the table. There's a tall cup of coffee in front of him and two slices of cake.

Derek grins and sits across from him. ″Good to see you.″

Stiles pushes one plate of cake toward Derek. ″I hope you like cake. You look like you've got a bit of a sweet tooth.″

″I've been known to enjoy sweet things,″ Derek replies, looking at Stiles with intent. 

Clearing his throat, Stiles shifts in his chair, blush raising lightly to his cheeks. ″Um. Good. That's good.″ 

″I um,″ Derek says. ″Do you mind if I kiss you? Because I don't think I'll be able to concentrate on this date otherwise.″

Stiles practically falls out of his chair trying to get up and over to where Derek's sitting. His face is eager, and Derek likes that look on him, as he leans in close.

″Sure,″ he breathes against Derek's mouth. Derek reaches up, cups Stiles' face in his hands, and pulls him that last little bit to kiss him. It's good, Derek thinks, _so good_. Stiles' hands are clenched on the fabric of his shirt, his body slotted between Derek's knees. His lips are soft against his, a little wet, and just the right amount of pressure. He loses at least five minutes to these soft, open mouth kisses, no tongue, no teeth, just lips. All too soon, Stiles pulls back. His cheeks are nicely flushed, pupils wide, and lips wet. He goes back to his seat on unsteady legs and sprawls into his seat. ″Um. Yeah, that oughta make concentrating a breeze,″ Stiles says, eyes a bit unfocused. 

Derek laughs. ″Well, maybe it didn't work as planned, but I can't say I regret it.″

″No, not complaining,″ Stiles says, darting a glance at Derek's mouth again before refocusing on Derek's eyes. ″Not in the least.″

″So, If you don't work at the computer shop, where _do_ you work?″ Derek asks. He tugs the cake in front of him and takes a bite. 

Stiles reaches up and scratches behind his ear. ″Well, it's weird.″ 

Derek shrugs. ″Try me.″

″Okay,″ Stiles says, pointing at Derek with his fork. ″But you got to promise not to think it's dumb.″

He can't imagine what sort of job Stiles does that requires that sort of introduction, but he agrees anyhow. ″Promise.″

″I write trivia questions for a living,″ Stiles says with a sort of what can you do expression.

″Like Trivial Pursuit?″ Derek asks, curious. 

Stiles nods. ″Yeah, for game cards, video games. Pub nights. Different things. I usually get a set of categories and how many questions need to be in each. Then I fill em out. It pays pretty decent. And there's always someone wanting to stay current, so I'm always making new sets.″

″That doesn't sound like a job you can just apply for,″ Derek says. It's not even a job he's ever thought existed, actually.

″No,″ Stiles agrees. ″When I was bored, I used to make quizzes online on one of those free sites. Some of them got really popular. Then, one day, I got a call from Hasbro. It sounded like a fun job, so I accepted. It it went from there. Now, I freelance for a bunch of places. All those wikipedia spirals I had as a teenager paid off.″ 

Derek laughs. ″Wow, your job sounds much more interesting than mine. I translate English children's books into Spanish and vice versa.″

″Whoa,″ Stiles says, sounding impressed. ″That's so cool.″

They stay talking at the table through three coffees and two more slices of cake. Stiles tells him funny things he's learned trivia hunting, about his dad, a sheriff, about Scott, his best friend, and about the time he'd streaked across the college campus drunk on a dare.

Derek talks about his sisters, the time he, Isaac, Erica, and Boyd tried backpacking across America only to go home three days later swearing never to walk again, playing baseball in high school, and how he got into translating. He doesn't mention Kate or Lucy. 

It's hard to leave, but he needs to get back to his mom's before she decides to drop Lucy back off at his house and discovers he's not there. They walk over to the parking lot together in silence. 

″Well,″ Stiles says, leaning against his jeep. ″I had a great time.″

Derek nods, moves close enough to touch. ″I did too.″

Stiles reaches for him and they kiss again. This one sweet with the flavor cake and overly-sugary coffee. Derek pulls back reluctantly. 

″I'd like to see you again,″ Stiles says, tugging a little at the fabric of Derek's shirt where he'd wrinkled it earlier. 

Derek tips Stiles face up by the chin and kisses him once more. ″Me too. I'll call you. Tomorrow. Or even later tonight. ″

Stiles licks his lips. ″Yeah, I'd like that.″

″Good,″ Derek says, and with that, walks back to his car.

~*~

Derek practically floats all the way to get Lucy and back home. He's grateful Laura went home, because she'd have known immediately he hadn't spent the last few hours working. Talia just asks if he got a lot accomplished. Even if she suspects, she's willing to play along with him. Lucy falls asleep on the ride back and doesn't even wake while he puts her in a nightgown and tucks her into bed.

He gets ready for bed himself, slipping between his sheets in just his boxers. He takes his phone off his side table and wonders if it'd be desperate to call so soon. He taps on Stiles' number, and closes his eyes.

When Stiles answers, voice happy and welcoming, Derek smiles. ″Hey, Stiles.″

~*~

Derek wakes up and smiles. Tonight he's finally managed to schedule a proper second date with Stiles. The past three weeks have sped by quickly. Between both their jobs—Derek got two new manuscripts to translate and Stiles had to do a large chunk of research for some specialized trivia questions he needed to write—and Lucy, who Stiles still doesn’t know about, they'd only managed to meet up a few times for a quick coffee. But tonight, Derek thinks, tonight Lucy's staying over at his mother's. They've got plans for dinner and a movie—a grown up movie, which Derek can't remember the last time he's seen one. Then, maybe, something else if Stiles seems interested.

All that excitement withers when he opens his daughter's room and wakes her up. She's hot to the touch and coughs when he touches her forehead. ″Ugh,″ she says, rolling back over to sleep. Derek lets her and goes to the bathroom for the thermometer and the Children's Tylenol. He checks her temp, and it's above normal, but not worryingly so. He wakes her up enough to give her a dose, which she drinks begrudgingly, then lets her go back to sleep.

He calls her out of class and it turns out she's not the only one with a cold. Derek grimaces. Lucy tends to get at least half of everything that goes around. He wonders if he should cancel with Stiles, but decides against it just yet. Last time she got sick, he called her out of school, gave her some meds, and she was up, running around the house like a maniac only two hours later.

~*~

She doesn't get better. She gets worse, and Derek ends up taking her to the doctor's in the afternoon. She fusses through the whole appointment, all stuffy, coughing, and miserable. Derek holds her close as she smears snot and germs all over his shirt. The doctor calls in a prescription and recommends liquids and bed rest.

After he gets her down for a nap, he quickly calls Stiles to cancel, making up a lie about car trouble to get out of it. He wants to tell him about Lucy, but not yet and not over the phone. Stiles is disappointed, but they reschedule for the following week, which cheers them both a little.

It's near six when the pharmacy texts to let him know the prescription's ready. He hates to have to bring Lucy with him, but it's quicker than trying to call someone over to stay with her. 

Normally, Lucy hates being carried in a store when she can walk, but today, she doesn't want to be put down, even for a minute. Derek is in the aisle, wishing he'd grabbed a basket, because carrying Lucy, her meds, and anything else is going to take juggling when it happens. 

″Derek?″ Stiles says, and Derek turns to find Stiles standing in front of him. He freezes, not quite sure what to say or how to explain. He opens his mouth to apologize for lying, to explain why he lied, to assure him he's not married or cheating, something, but Lucy interrupts his lack of words by saying, in a sad, pathetically sick voice, ″Daddy, I don't feel good.″

″I know, baby girl,″ Derek says, because regardless of what's happening with Stiles, Lucy comes first. ″We're here to get your medicine to make you feel better.″ 

Stiles face is complicated, and so Derek isn't prepared for what he ends up saying. ″Can I help?″ Stiles sounds sincere, and Derek finds his shoulders relaxing slightly. ″You look like your hands are full.″

″Yeah,″ Derek says, grateful. ″I need a three-pack of tissues and a few bottles of Gatorade. ″ 

″No problem,″ Stiles says. Derek knows this isn't the end of it, but he's relieved that they're not making a scene in the store in front of Lucy.  
Stiles walks him to his car when Derek's done shopping. ″What's her name?″ 

″Lucy,″ Derek replies, tucking her sleeping form into the car seat. 

″Cute name,″ Stiles says, but offers no other comment.

Once she's situated, Derek turns back to face him. ″I promise I'm not married or anything.″

Stiles snorts. ″Didn't think you were, big guy.″

″I'm sorry I didn't say anything,″ Derek starts, but Stiles cuts him off with a wave of his hand. ″Don't worry about it. I understand.″

″You do?″ Derek asks, wondering if this means Stiles is a parent as well. Most people aren't so understanding about lying, even if good reasons are involved.

Stiles nods. ″Yeah, my dad was a single parent, yanno? I get it. Can't be too careful about who you bring your kid around.″

″Thanks, Stiles,″ Derek says, the rest of the stress draining out of him. ″I was planning on telling you tonight, if the date went well.″

Stiles moves closer to him, bracketing him against his car. ″Seriously, Derek. Don't worry about it.″ He leans in for a kiss, slow enough to telegraph it. Derek surges forward, captures Stiles' lips in a deep kiss neither of them are expecting then. He pulls back after a few moments, not quite wanting to say goodbye. 

″I have to get her home,″ Derek says, pressing another kiss to Stiles' lips. ″But I really can't wait to see you again.″

″Yeah,″ Stiles says, pressing a kiss to his cheek. ″Take care of the kiddo. Call me after she's in bed, if you want.″

Derek nods. ″I will, if I don't pass out as soon as she does.″

Laughing, Stiles walks back over to his Jeep.

~*~

″So,″ Laura says when Derek answers the phone. Derek knows that tone. Derek _hates_ that tone.

Derek groans. ″I should've let the call go to voicemail.″ 

″That's no way to talk to your big sister,″ Laura chides. ″So, what's going on in the world of Derek?″

He calculates the odds that she knows he's dating someone and whether it'd be better to just come clean. ″Same old,″ he lies. ″Translating, taking care of Lucy, fighting the good fight against dirty laundry.″

Laura scoffs. ″I know something's going on with you. You've not been nearly as dour as you normally are.″

″Would you rather I spend my life frowning?″ Derek asks, not willing to give in and tell her. The last thing he needs is her crowing about being right when he's still getting to know Stiles. If it doesn't work out, she'll go twice as hard as before on her goal of finding him a person.

″No, but I'm pretty used to your frown by now. If you keep it up, I might not recognize you.″ Laura laughs at her own joke because she's got a terrible sense of humor. 

Derek looks down at his notes then up at the clock. If he wants to catch Stiles for a coffee today, he needs to get this finished soon. ″Were you only calling to harass me or do you actually want something?″

″Just to harass you, Der,″ Laura replies blithely. ″Talk to you later.″

_Sisters._

~*~

The second date goes well. So does the third. And the sixth. And the tenth. Derek's pretty sure that he'll never get tired of seeing Stiles' face, kissing his lips, holding his hand, and hearing his laugh.

Derek joins Stiles at their normal seat at the coffee shop and immediately notices Stiles' isn't smiling. He's tapping his fingers restlessly against the table and only looks up briefly when Derek sits down. 

″What's wrong,″ he asks, reaching across the table to hold Stiles' hand. Stiles almost pulls back, but stops himself at the last moment and lets Derek twine their fingers together. 

″Nothing,″ Stiles says, and Derek's brain goes from worrying about some vague stress that must be in Stiles' life to worrying that the stress is him.

Derek picks up Stiles' hand and kisses it. ″Come on, Stiles. You can tell me anything.″

″I,″ Stiles starts, looking down at the table for a moment. Then, he seemingly finds his resolve, and looks up. ″I was wondering if...that is. I'd hoped you'd... Well, I'd like...″

″Stiles,″ Derek says, ″you can tell me what it is. I promise.″

″I'd like to meet Lucy,″ Stiles says quickly. ″I don't know if it's too soon. But, I thought, well, I hoped you might offer. Then I worried you weren't offering for a reason. I just. Well, I really like you a lot, Derek. And, I figured, maybe it was the right time.″

Derek doesn't respond at first, but he makes sure he keeps Stiles' hand in his. ″I want to say yes. I do, he says, ″And I'm not saying, no. But, I need to tell you something, first. About Lucy's mom.″

Stiles nods, face open and understanding. ″Tell me.″

″We met during college. She was a bit wild. I liked that about her. When she got pregnant, it wasn't planned, but I was happy. So happy. I guess she wasn't. She never said anything. Never mentioned abortion or adoption or anything. But, she wasn't happy. If I'm honest, I knew she wasn't. Figured she just needed time,″ Derek says, looking at their hands instead of Stiles' face. It's still hard for him to talk about, even after all this time. ″After she gave birth, she barely held Lucy. I wondered if it was postpartum or something. I went down to the cafeteria to get something to eat, and when I came back she was gone. She left a note. It said, 'Derek, she's all yours. ~Kate.' When I got back home, all her stuff was gone. I've never seen or heard from her again.″

″Derek,″ Stiles says, reaching with his other hand to cup Derek's face. ″I'm sorry.″

″It's okay,″ Derek says, means it mostly. ″It's for the best. I'm just nervous, I guess. It's just been me and Lucy since she was born. You're the first person I've seen since.″

Stiles smiles at that, jokes, ″I guess that means I'm special.″

″Yeah,″ Derek replies, serious. ″You are.″

~*~

Derek tries to contain his nerves when he goes to pick Lucy up from school. If she picks up on it, she'll be fussy and irritable, and that will go poorly for everyone.

″Daddy!″ she greets when she sees him. 

He scoops her up for a hug. ″Hey, baby girl.″

As he's carrying her out to the car, he says, ″Before we go home, we're going to make a special stop, okay?″

″Where we goin', Daddy?″ she asks. ″Are we goin' to Grandma's?″

Derek shakes his head. ″Nope. We're going to meet a friend of mine.″

″Okay,″ she says as if giving Derek permission, which makes him chuckle. 

He musses her hair,″Let's go, squirt.″

They meet at a McDonald's because Derek and Stiles' coffee spot would bore her to tears. He gets their food and finds Stiles already sitting at a table.

″Lucy,″ he says as he sets down the tray, ″This is my friend, Stiles.″

Lucy climbs up into the booth, food distracting her from being shy. ″Hi,″ she mumbles before diving into her chicken nuggets. 

Stiles grins, shrugging. ″I'd be more interested in the chicken nuggets, too.″

Derek relaxes into the booth as much as one can. Yes, Derek thinks, this was the right choice. ″Good thing I got you some. She doesn't like to share.″ He slides over the extra four-piece he bought, making Stiles beam.

_This is what I want_ , Derek thinks, watching as Stiles tries to get Lucy to tell him her favorite dipping sauce. _Forever._

~*~

″Guess who's here?″ Stiles announces as he comes through the front door. He's got a package that suspiciously looks like a stuffed animal tucked under his arm.

Lucy pelts out of the living room as soon as she hears his voice. ″Stiles!″

″Hey, Lulu Belle, how's my favorite girl doing?″ Stiles asks as he picks her up for a hug.

She giggles and gives him a wet kiss on his cheek. ″What's that?″ she asks, pointing at the bag on the floor by his feet.

″What's what?″ Stiles asks, looking around the room exaggeratedly. 

Lucy points again, moving Stiles' face with her other hand. ″That. What's that?″

″This?″ Stiles says as he awkwardly squats down to retrieve it. ″I don't know. What do you think it is?″

″Is it a present?″ she asks. ″Is it for me?″

″Must be,″ Stiles says. ″Why don't you open it up and see what it is?″

He lets her down and she sits right there on the floor to open it. Inside Lucy finds the one missing bear from her collection of super hero bears. ″Daddy! An Iron Man Bear! Didja see what Stiles got me?″

″I see it,″ Derek says. ″Don't forget to say thanks, Luce.″

″Thank you, Stiles!″ she yells, clutching the bear to her chest. ″He needs to meet all his friends.″ And with that, she takes off down the hall to her room.

″You're gonna spoil her,″ Derek chides half-heartedly as he drags Stiles in for a hug and kiss. 

″Damage has already been done before I came along,″ Stiles argues, but drops the debate in favor of another kiss. ″Plus, I'm totally jealous of her collection. I'd love to get my hands on my very own Captain America Bear.″

″If you ask Lucy nicely, I'm sure she'd let you hold it for a few seconds,″ Derek says.

Stiles snorts. ″Only if I want to get stuck playing Super Hero Tea Party Madness Dragon Hunt again. I still don't understand the rules to that game. All I know is I played it wrong and I'm surprised Lucy's forgiven me.″

″Come on,″ Derek says, tugging Stiles into the kitchen. ″You can help me make dinner.″

″I'm proficient in the art of making ramen, Kraft dinner, and any and all frozen dinners,″ Stiles says proudly. ″I've even managed to make pasta with canned sauce a time or two.″

″A regular Gordon Ramsey, then.″ Derek laughs. ″Get in here, and I'll teach you.″

~*~

After Lucy's in bed, Derek and Stiles cuddle on the couch to watch one of the many shows Derek missed while on adult-programming exile. He's so engrossed in both the show and the way Stiles feels in his arms that he doesn't notice how late it is until Netflix asks if they want to keep watching.

″I guess I should head home,″ Stiles says, clearly reluctant to move.

Derek kisses the side of Stiles' head, his neck, his shoulder. ″Or, you could stay.″

″I didn't bring a change of clothes,″ Stiles replies, turning in Derek's arms to face him. 

Derek kisses Stiles' lips. ″I could lend you some of mine.″

Stiles rubs his hands under Derek's shirt. ″Will I be sleeping on the couch?″

″I was thinking my bed,″ Derek suggests, leaning in to nibble on Stiles' lower lip. ″But, if you'd rather the couch, that's fine.″

″No!″ Stiles nearly shouts. Then, after darting his eyes towards the hall, more quietly, ″No. Your bed sounds great. It sounds perfect. It's probably more comfortable than the couch. You look like the memory foam kind of guy. Though, I won't complain even if it's futon. Yes, please, take me to bed and shut me up so I stop babbling like an idiot.″

″I'll take you to bed,″ Derek says, getting off the couch and pulling Stiles with him. ″Can't promise I won't make you babble even more than you are now.″

″You're a menace,″ Stiles says, but follows him down the hall eagerly and with a smile.

~*~

When they finally get to his room, Derek practically pounces on Stiles. His hands are eager and fumbling, like this is his first time all over again. He'd be embarrassed if Stiles weren't the same. They strip in an awkward dance toward the bed, stumbling more than once.

Derek ends up half on the bed, half off, with Stiles starfished on top of him. ″This whole scenario was sexier in my head,″ Stiles comments as they, by mutual silent agreement, separate long enough to get into bed without further injury or humiliation.

″I'm naked in bed with a person I'm attracted to for the first time in almost four years. It's plenty sexy,″ Derek replies. 

″Aww, Der,″ Stiles says, and rolls on top of him, kissing him soundly. Stiles isn't really a terribly romantic person, and neither is Derek, but he's a soft touch, and Derek loves that about him.

Derek wants to be suave, wants to take Stiles apart, wants to kiss every part of his body, wants to make Stiles forget sex with other people exists, but he's too keyed up, too high on finally being skin on skin with him that Stiles will have to settle for some frenzied groping. At least, he doesn't seem to mind.

″Derek, god,″ Stiles moans against his mouth, one hand threading through Derek's hair, and the other grabbing his shoulder. Derek moves his hand down to grasp both of their cocks in his fist. 

His skin feels alive with every touch. It's good. So good. He opens his eyes and stares at Stiles' beautiful, flushed face. ″I love you,″ he says, means it more than he ever thought he could. ″I- _Stiles_.″

″Der,″ Stiles cups his face in both his hands, kisses him slow, deep. ″You, too,″ he says, just like a promise. ″I love you, too.″

They roll around the bed a bit more, some uncoordinated frotting as they kiss, less grace than any sex he's had as an adult, but he can't help but feel like this is the best sex he's ever had. 

He comes with Stiles on top of him, those long fingers grasping his cock in a sure grip. He nibbles at Stiles’ throat, finally coaxing a climax out of him with his come and his hand around Stiles' cock.

″You know,″ Stiles says, once his breath returns. ″If we were on the beach, we'd have successfully reenacted that scene in _From Here To Eternity_. With a lot more nudity. And a lot less coordination.″

Derek snorts, rolling onto his belly to look at Stiles. ″Practically scene for scene, then.″

″Shut up,″ Stiles says, ″I still don't have control of my brain yet. It's your fault. Hey,″ Stiles says, pulling Derek more or less on top of him. ″Stop looking so smug.″

″Stop giving me something to be smug about,″ Derek counters. 

Stiles stops smiling, but the look in his eyes is full of love, intense like he rarely sees him. ″No, I don't think I will.″

~*~

Derek wakes, but barely, when Stiles slips out of his arms. ″Stiles?″

″Go back to sleep, Der,″ Stiles says, slipping on a pair of boxers—Derek's not sure whose—and walking to the door. ″I'm just going to the bathroom.″

″Kay,″ Derek says, and rolls back over. He's normally up by now, but staying up three hours later than normal to have sex twice wore him out nicely.

Derek definitely can get used to this. Having Stiles in his bed every night, in his life.

″Ah!″ Derek practically falls out of bed when he hears Stiles yell.

He tugs on a pair of sleep pants he leaves near the bed and hurries out to the kitchen only to find Stiles in his kitchen, frying pan hovering in front of what now Derek can tell are his boxer shorts. His sisters are both standing there on the other side of the counter staring at him.

″Oh, shit,″ Derek says, because Laura is going to be _awful_.

″Derek,″ Stiles says, voice high pitched and nervous. ″I wasn't expecting to find two lovely ladies who bear a remarkable resemblance to you—your sisters, I'm guessing—in your kitchen this morning.″

″Neither was I,″ Derek says, and moves over to take the frying pan from Stiles before he brains himself with it. ″What are you doing here?″ he asks, turning to Laura and Cora, who both seem to have a hundred horrible things to say, each, clamoring behind their teeth.

″I just wanted to come by and say hello to my favorite brother,″ Laura says, loftily, her eyes still fixed on Stiles. 

″I'm your only brother,″ Derek returns. ″And you usually call first.″

Laura rolls her eyes. ″Fine, we may have heard from a little birdy that you were dating someone and we wanted to ambush you before you had time to come up with a good lie.″

″It was mom,″ Cora says, because as much as she loves torturing him in the name of sisterly love, she has remarkably less patience for Laura's overly dramatic bullshit.

″I see,″ Derek says, reaching back for Stiles' hand. He glances back and sees that Stiles still looks half ready to book it to the nearest escape route. ″Laura, Cora, this is Stiles. Stiles, these are the harpies masquerading as my sisters.″

″Nice to meet you,″ Stiles says dutifully, then adds, ″it'd be nicer, though, if I were dressed and not wearing your brother's underwear. Just sayin'.″

Derek rolls his eyes towards the heavens. They are never going to let that go. Never. ″Stiles, you can go get dressed. I'll make pancakes.″

″Daddy!″ Lucy calls from her bedroom, and Stiles' eyes widen, suddenly, as he looks down at his current state of dress, or lack thereof. ″I'll go do that now.″ Stiles edges out of the room like he's afraid to turn his back on Laura, which is probably wise.

″I like him,″ Laura says approvingly as she scoops up Lucy who came tearing down the hall seconds after Derek heard his bedroom door close. Cora nods, coming to Laura's other side to greet Lucy, too.

Derek smiles as he gets the ingredients ready for pancakes. ″Me too.″


End file.
